


Case A7B432

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [52]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: When Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint are murdered, their friends and associates are contacted by the Ministry as possible targets. Draco Malfoy chooses Hermione Granger as his Auror protector, and as more people die, Draco and Hermione must race to figure out who the killer is, even if it means putting their lives at risk.





	Case A7B432

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneFanfictionForumHalloween2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneFanfictionForumHalloween2018) collection. 



> **  
>  **   
>  **Prompt:**   
>  **When Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint are gruesomely murdered in a short period of time using muggle means, their friends and associates are contacted by the ministry as possible targets. Harry and Hermione are the Aurors assigned to protect Draco.**
> 
> **Thanks to my beta RachealLA26 for her help on this project. The nickname The Bolt for Kingsley Shacklebolt is not my creation, sekdaniels is the mastermind behind that.**
> 
> **Somehow this story one Overall Favorite and Best Smut in the competition and I couldn't be more surprised or pleased. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as the folks who voted on it did.**
> 
> **If you liked this, or hated it, please drop a review and let me know about it! Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.**

* * *

   _October 1, 2008_

* * *

Arterial blood sprayed violently across the brick wall of the dingy alley as the knife came down again and again and again.

“...stop…” Marcus Flint groaned. “I’m…dead...sto…” Marcus Flint said no more.

The murderer dropped the knife as they surveyed their work. Flint was as dead as Zabini had been three weeks ago. After a quick look around to ensure nobody spotted them, the murderer dropped a feather and Apparated from the scene. 

* * *

_October 6, 2008_

* * *

Draco Malfoy grimaced as he watched Marcus Flint’s casket levitate into the Flint family crypt. Marcus was the last of the Flint’s, and his holdings would now be split up among his heirs. But Marcus didn’t have any heirs. His mother was a Selwyn, and his grandmother was a Fawley. The Fawley and Selwyn families would either fight over the holdings, or the Ministry would take them. Draco felt sick at the thought. It was the second funeral he’d attended in as many months. He was too young to be attending this many funerals.

Blaise Zabini had been beaten to death with a fucking candlestick of all things, the month before. The Aurors, led by the insufferable Potter, knew nothing, of course. But Draco knew. Whoever it was, they were going after Death Eaters and sympathizers. It was vigilante justice. As much as Draco wanted to save his own skin, he was the most prominent Death Eater of his generation. He almost hoped he was going to be next. Maybe then his conscience wouldn’t prick at him.

He tossed his cigarette to the side and turned away from the scene. Not many had shown up for Marcus’ funeral, but Draco vowed to go to them all. Until he was killed, of course. 

* * *

  _October 9, 2008_

* * *

Draco rolled over, shoving the pillow over his head, but it didn’t stop the incessant tapping at his window. He groaned as he sat up; at least the weather matched his mood. The owl tapping at his window looked properly pissed off with the rain beating down on it. Draco grabbed his wand from the nightstand and flicked it, opening the window. The owl looked at him balefully as it swooped inside and landed on his lap, holding out its leg. Draco untied the scroll, and the owl left through the open window.

> _Mr Malfoy,_
> 
> _Due to recent events, we ask that you attend a meeting with the Aurory. Please arrive on Friday at eleven in the morning. Failure to show up will result in automatic detention in Azkaban._
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
> _Kingsley Shacklebolt_
> 
> _Head Auror_

_Fuck_. Draco crumpled the piece of paper in his hand and rolled back over onto his stomach. He’d deal with this later, at a more reasonable hour. 

* * *

_October 10, 2008_

* * *

The following morning found Draco strolling through the Ministry on his way to level two and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was surprised when he entered the conference room the meeting was being held in to see several other Slytherins his age there. He had half expected that he was being called in because he was a suspect, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“Good, you’re here. We can begin.” Potter nodded at him. Draco took a seat and glanced around the room. There were ten former Slytherins and just as many Aurors, standing along the walls. Potter began explaining the situation as the Auror department saw it and Draco could see where this was going.

“You’ll each be assigned an Auror for your protec—”

“I want Granger,” Draco interrupted. Granger glanced at him with a startled look on her face, before she covered it with a look of mild disdain.

“You don’t get to choose, Malfoy,” Potter sighed.

“Don’t care. I get Granger, or I refuse protection.” Draco wanted the best and, out of all the Auror’s present, Granger was _clearly_ the best. Although, this feeling itself was at odds with how weary he was and how he’d lived longer than expected already. Since Blaise and Marcus’ deaths, he’d assumed he would be dying soon anyway. It’s not like he did anything more than rattle around the very empty Malfoy Manor.

Potter made more noises of dissent, but Granger cut him off. “It’s fine, Harry,” Granger said quietly. “I can cover Malfoy.”

It was Draco’s turn to peer at her with interest. She seemed… different than how he remembered her; less bossy, although he was sure she was still swotty. She eyed him with cool indifference before turning her attention back to Harry as he passed out the rest of the assignments. Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off her for the rest of the meeting. 

* * *

  _October 13, 2008_

* * *

“No! Don’t! Please don’t! I’ll do anything!” Astoria Greengrass screamed as the man in all black moved closer to her.

“Too late,” he rasped, tossing the length of rope around her neck. A flick of his wand and the rope hauled itself over the exposed pipe above her.

Astoria kicked her dangling legs and clawed at the rope around her neck, desperate to get it off, to take a breath of air, but nothing she did worked. She stopped breathing, slowly turning purple and then blue as her air supply was cut off. Her body hung limply from the rope around her neck.

The killer took one last look at her before dropping the worn coin on the ground at her feet and Apparating away.  

* * *

  _October 14, 2008_

* * *

“Let’s go, Malfoy. Up and at ‘em,” a cheery voice greeted him. Draco groaned and rolled over, then threw a hand across his face when he realized his bedroom curtains had been flung wide open.

“Go ‘way,” he muttered, burrowing back into his pillow.

“Nope, I’ve got to get to the Ministry. So you do too,” Granger said, pulling the sheets from him. He heard her gasp and could imagine the bright red flush she would have. He peaked, and his suspicions were confirmed, she’d turned away from his nude body.

“See something you like, Granger?” Draco drawled.

“Put some bloody clothes on, Malfoy,” she hissed and stalked toward the door. “I expect you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

Draco chuckled and sat up. He’d given Granger a room in Malfoy Manor the day before as his protector; he snorted at the thought. Malfoy Manor was so big that even though she was just next door to him, they were still separated by three rooms. He dragged himself out of bed to get ready for the day. He had no objections to following Granger around; it’s not like he had anything better to do. And the view wasn’t half bad either. Somehow, Granger had managed to tame her hair. It was still curly and wild, but less bushy. Although, she rarely wore it down these days.

* * *

The Auror bullpen Granger led Draco through was in chaos. Aurors, secretaries, and other Ministry workers Draco couldn’t identify were shouting loudly. At least twenty different conversations were taking place. People were running in and out of the aisles, and parchment airplane memos were zooming around above their heads. Granger led the way through the maze to a large conference room in the back. It was a different one than the other day. This one had boxes and boxes of documents and parchments and photos stuck to all of the walls. There was even some string tying the documents and pictures on the walls together. Draco couldn’t make sense of any of it.

“Mind the mess,” Granger muttered as she shouldered open the door, and a box of parchment threatened to tumble over.

Looking around, Draco surmised that this was the war room for the investigation into the dead Slytherins. “Do you have a name for the case?” he asked suddenly as he realized he was just lumping all the people into the same old Hogwarts house and how lame was that? They were more than Slytherins, weren’t they?

Granger gave him a strange look. “The _Daily Prophet_ has called him the Faceless Murderer, but we’re just calling it case A7B432.”

“That’s a terrible name.” Draco wrinkled his nose.

“Which one?” Granger deadpanned before turning away from him to address Potter.

After a moment, Draco realized someone was shouting nearby. It was different shouting to what he’d heard in the bullpen. It almost sounded as if someone was getting reamed out. He strained his ears, trying to drown out Potter and Granger’s low conversation to hear what was being said.

“...incompetence Fincher! Another dead…” the voices were muffled by something heavy slamming down onto a desk or filing cabinet.

“...my fault,” a meek voice said. “Slipped my—”

“Malfoy?” Hermione asked, giving him a funny look again. Draco gazed at her, trying to decipher it, but wasn’t able to.

He turned back around to her just before the door burst open and Kingsley Shacklebolt came through it, followed by someone Draco didn’t recognize.

“Fincher is on desk duty until further notice,” Shacklebolt snapped. “There’s been another murder.” He tossed a thick file onto the table and left.

“Fuck,” Granger hissed, picking up the file.

“Who is it?” Draco asked.

“Should he be here?” The Auror Draco didn’t recognize asked, pointing at Draco. Fincher, Draco assumed.

“He’s my assignee,” Granger muttered. “Unlike you, I want mine to live through this mess.”

“Who. Is. It?” Draco asked again, his anger rising as they were ignoring him.

“Astoria Greengrass,” Potter replied, taking the parchment from Granger when she was done with it.

“Fuck,” Draco murmured and sat hard in his chair. He’d always liked Astoria; she was bright and funny. He couldn’t believe she was dead. He caught a photo that had fallen out of the file and stared at it. There was a pair of feet encased in black, shiny high heels swinging in a slight breeze. Beneath them an old worn coin.

“Do you have any leads?” Draco asked, unable to tear his eyes from the chilling photograph.

“No,” Potter snapped. “No fucking leads. No fucking clues.” He slammed the parchment he was holding back on the table, and Draco realized that was the sound he had heard earlier, during the argument that must have been between Shacklebolt and the tosser sitting next to him. Draco curled his lip at Fincher.

“What was left at Blaise and Marcus’ crime scenes?” Draco asked.

“Nothing but the murder weapon,” Granger replied as she slowly sank into a seat, going through everything in the file a second time.

“Really? There wasn’t a trinket?” Draco asked.

“What are you getting at?” Potter said, finally looking up at Draco.

Draco pulled the photo of the coin out of the stack Granger was sifting through and showed it to Potter and Granger.

“That looks like a trinket. It looks like either a calling card or a clue. Are you sure nothing was left at Marcus or Blaise’s crime scenes?”

Granger grew still as she looked at the photo and Draco watched the blood drain out of her face.

“Harry! The Flint and Zabini files, quickly!”

Potter looked as alarmed as she did and dug through the boxes at the end of the room. He found the photographs from both cases and then spread them out along the table. They were much more gruesome since Blaise had been beaten to death and Marcus stabbed.

“Is that...” Granger asked, pointing to what looked like some sort of feather in a congealed pool of blood. Draco could just make out Marcus’ hand at the edge of the photograph.

“A goshawk feather,” Draco said grimly.

“Astor is goshawk in Old Provençal,” Granger replied quietly. Draco nodded. He knew.

“He’s leaving a clue to the next person!” Potter shouted. He began flipping through Blaise’s photographs. Blaise’s scene was worse than Marcus’. With Marcus there was just a lot of blood; Blaise’s body was mutilated by the beating he took. Draco grimaced as he looked at the photographs, he wasn’t sure his stomach could handle this as it threatened to revolt, violently.

“There!” Granger shouted, pointing at a photo. Draco looked closely; another clue dropped in a pool of blood. This one, a piece of… rock?

“Flint,” Granger said. “The killer dropped a piece of flint, indicating Marcus Flint.”

Draco had a sudden brainwave; he pulled out the photograph of Astoria again. “I know who will be next.”

* * *

  _Meanwhile…._

* * *

Adrian Pucey hated Knockturn Alley; he hated more that his so-called ‘protector’ had left him here. He snorted as he hurried through the alley, he just needed one thing from a somewhat shady buyer and the Auror who was supposed to be protecting him balked. It wasn’t even illegal, just a little dubious. Adrian really wanted to be out of Knockturn and back in the company of his protector as soon as possible. He was entirely creeped out about the murders that had been happening. Poor little Astoria Greengrass had got it just last night.

A loud sound like a firecracker burst out from right behind Adrian, and he fell face first onto the paving stones.

Before Apparating away, the murderer dropped a tiny tin toy soldier onto Adrian’s back.

* * *

“You should at least contact the Auror assigned to him, Granger!” Draco shouted. “Was the coin collected in evidence? The photograph is hard to tell, but I guarantee you it’s a Hadrian coin.

“You don’t know that! It could be anything!” Granger said. “I’ll go down to the crime laboratory to see if the coin is there. There’s no guarantee though.”

“Let’s go then,” Draco said as he pushed away from the table and stood.

“No, you aren’t going,” Granger said and stood as well. “You stay here with Harr—” Granger stopped speaking when a loud argument broke out in the bullpen.

“The Bolt’s really giving it to someone,” Harry murmured and opened the door quietly.

“Fuck,” Fincher muttered. “Someone else must have died.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked.

“That’s the same voice he reamed me with.”

“More incompetence! He’s escalating! Dawlish, I thought you were better than that,” Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice boomed around the room as he got closer.

“Oh, fuck,” Granger moaned and dropped her head into her hands.

“What?” Potter hissed.

“Malfoy was right. Dawlish was assigned to Adrian Pucey,” Granger whispered just as Shacklebolt burst into the room.

“Potter, Granger there’s a crime scene in Knockturn Alley that could use your expertise. Pucey’s dead.”

Draco felt sick to his stomach. There had been three weeks between Blaise and Marcus. Almost two weeks between Marcus and Astoria. Now the day after Astoria had been murdered, Adrian was dead. The killer _was_ escalating.

“I’m coming with you,” Draco said and stood up.

Granger looked like she was going to argue for a moment but then nodded. “Just stay out of the way. Don’t contaminate the scene.” Draco nodded his agreement and Granger led them back out through the bullpen and to the Auror Apparition room. 

* * *

The scene in Knockturn Alley wasn’t as bad as Draco had been fearing. Adrian was dead, face down on the cobblestones as a pool of blood spread beneath him, but he wasn’t beaten or stabbed to death. Rather, there was a small hole in the back of his head, near his right ear.

“What’s that?” Draco asked pointing to it.

Granger sucked in a sharp breath. “How would the killer have gotten a gun? A handgun at that. They are highly regulated in the Muggle world.”

“What’s a gun?” Draco asked.

“Murder device,” Potter grunted. “Not good for anything but murder. Generally, it’s hard to get a handgun in the UK. Long guns used for hunting are a little more common.”

“Muggles make things just for murder?” Draco asked. He was horrified. He knew Muggles were uncouth, but that just—

“Oh, stop it. You think a wand is any better? It’s all about the intention,” Granger snapped at him. “Now stay back, so Harry and I can process the scene.”

Draco leaned against the wall about ten meters from where Granger, Potter, and the other Aurors were working. He dug into his cloak for his pack of cigarettes. Ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking, he got his cigarette lit and watched as the Aurors photographed everything first, then slowly sifted through everything laying on the ground near Adrian’s body, even the items that looked like rubbish, and placing them into small clear vials.

Granger levitated something off of Adrian’s back; she peered at it closely before placing it in a vial. Draco wondered if that was the clue for who would be hit next. He hoped it wasn’t him. The longer he went without being killed, the more he wanted to stay alive. And then there was the way that Granger looked at him and the way the light shone through her hair intrigued Draco. He was attracted to her. She was still whip-smart, which was always a positive in Draco’s book, but he couldn’t deny that it was her looks that had drawn him in. Her brown eyes were often warm when they looked his way, and when she threw off her robes after working for several hours, Draco found he couldn’t keep his eyes off her curvy body. He’d often wondered in the last few days what she looked like without her clothes on.

A crack of Apparition sounded, breaking Draco from his reverie. The team from St Mungo’s had arrived.

Granger met back up with him and Apparated them both back to the Ministry. It was only about dinner time, but Draco felt like he’d been awake for days. So much had happened.

They returned to the small conference room, and Draco asked to look at the pictures. Potter looked like he wanted to argue, but Granger passed the folder over.

“He figured out the clues, Harry,” she told Potter with a small shrug.

The top picture was of Adrian’s back. He was wearing a dark colored cloak, and Draco could just make out the shine of some trinket on the back.

“Did you get a closer look at this?” Draco asked, pointing out the shine to Granger.

Granger smirked at him and flicked her wand. A vial holding a tin soldier flew from the evidence trunk they had brought back with them.

“A soldier?” Draco pondered who would be next based on that clue. Some of the clues had been easy: flint for Marcus Flint, a Hadrian coin for Adrian Pucey. But the goshawk feather for Astoria, that one was pretty obscure. This looked like another obscure one.

“Who else are the Aurors protecting?” Draco asked, looking up at Granger. She was staring at him again with that look on her face that Draco couldn’t identify.

Potter looked at him incredulously. “You were at the meeting, Malfoy. Don’t you recall who else was in the room?”

Malfoy felt himself flush, and he looked down at his hands. He didn’t recall who else was in the room because he’d spent the entirety of the meeting staring at Granger. Merlin, this little crush was going to get him in trouble. If he didn’t want to die, he’d have to put it out of his mind for the time being.

“Oh, hush, Harry,” Granger scolded Potter lightly. “Let’s see there was Miles Bletchley, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass; I’m missing someone.”

“Tracey Davis and Gregory Goyle,” Harry supplied.

“Do any of those names mean something like soldier?” Draco asked.

Potter shook his head while Granger’s face scrunched like she was deep in thought. Draco thought she looked adorable, and then felt immediately horrified at the thought. Adorable? Since when did Draco ever find anything adorable? Crup puppies were adorable. Kneazle kittens were adorable. Grangers were not adorable. Sexy maybe but not adorable.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face as he tried to shake the thought loose from his head.

“I don’t think we’re getting anything more done today,” Granger finally said with a sigh. “The Bolt’s sent out a memo reminding everyone on the protection teams of their assignments. So we should call it a night and hope for the best. Where’s Nott?”

“Theo?” Draco asked.

“My assignee,” Potter responded. He looked kind of funny, weirdly flushed. “Nott’s at Grimmauld. We made a deal; he had run of the house, as long as he didn’t leave.”

Granger nodded but didn’t say anything as she began packing up some of the files.

“I think we should stay at your flat,” Draco said, gauging Granger’s reaction. He wasn’t disappointed, she stiffened and reddened, and Draco couldn't stop the smirk from creeping onto his face.

“Er, what’s wrong with Malfoy Manor?” Granger asked.

Draco shrugged. “It’s too big. The wards haven’t been right since the war. If whoever is next is too well protected, they might try for me at the Manor.”

“I don’t think my flat is appropriate,” Granger muttered.

“Why not? Potter’s got Theo at his house.”

“It’s too small,” Granger said. “I live in a studio. Do you know what that means?”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not an idiot. I do know what a studio is.”

“Good, well you’ll realize that means you can’t stay there. There’s nowhere for you to sleep.”

Potter coughed awkwardly. “Uh, ‘night ‘Mione. Owl me if you need anything.” Then he slipped out the door. Draco and Granger were alone in the conference room.

“Well, I don’t think the Manor is safe enough. _You’re_ the protector, shouldn’t you provide the place for me to be protected?”

Granger groaned and ran her hands through her hair, lacing her fingers behind her head. “So you are either consenting to sleep on the floor or armchair or requiring that I sleep there?”

Draco grinned and shrugged. “Let’s just go and scope the place out. Maybe we’ll come to some other… conclusion.”

Granger narrowed her eyes at him and then immediately yawned. “Fine, let’s go.”

* * *

Granger wasn’t wrong, her flat was incredibly small, and Draco had lied, he wasn’t entirely sure what a studio was, but now he did. Granger lived in one room. Sure there was a separate room for the bathroom, but the kitchen, living, and sleeping area was one room.

“I think your bedroom at the Manor is larger than this,” Draco grunted as he slowly spun around taking in the space.

Granger flushed, and Draco smirked again. He liked making her flush; he idly wondered what else he could do to make her blush.

“I told you it wasn’t big,” Granger snapped. “I don’t even have a sofa.”

Draco shrugged. He didn’t plan on Granger or himself sleeping on the sofa. She was standing awkwardly near the kitchen as if she planned on offering him a drink but was waffling about the decision. Draco took two steps, and he was in front of her. A third step and she had backed into the small worktop.

“I don’t think we’ll need the sofa,” Draco muttered as he leaned his face down close to hers. Granger’s breath hitched, and she turned her face up to meet him. Draco paused for a moment, watching her small pink tongue dart out to lick her lip and felt his trousers tighten at the sight. All day, he felt like Granger had been teasing him, and he’d been thinking about the taste of her lips for at least three hours.

He leaned a little closer, bumping her nose with his and Granger’s eyes slipped closed. Draco smirked and closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. They were soft as heat exploded through him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. It was like that one touch was all that was needed to set off the fireworks that had been sparking between them.

Granger’s arms wound around his neck, pulling him down more firmly to her and he grasped her waist, hoisting her up to sit on the worktop behind her. She immediately opened her legs, and Draco stepped between them. He’d been right in his earlier musings, Granger’s curvy body was a perfect fit for his. He dragged his lips away from hers and kissed down to her jawline and up to her ear.

“Malfoy,” Granger moaned as he nipped at her earlobe.

“It’s Draco,” he whispered hotly into her ear, and she squirmed, pressing her center more firmly against where his cock was straining to be released from his trousers.

Granger pushed at his outer robes, and Draco shrugged them off. They landed at his feet with a soft whump and Granger began attacking the buttons of his shirt.

Draco smoothed his hands over Granger’s shoulders and kissed down along her neck. “I’m going to fuck you, Granger. You alright with that?”

Granger moaned, and her movements became faster. “Yes,” she hissed when he pinched her nipple through her robes. He dug his wand out of his pocket and flicked it so that they were both naked. He was pleased when Granger gasped. He grabbed her under her thighs and picked her up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, and the feeling of her hot cunt pulsing against his cock was almost more than he could take. Granger ground herself against him as he moved across the small space to the bed in the corner.

“Fuck, Granger,” Draco gasped when she arched in his arms and cried out. He must have hit her clit with his cock based on her reaction, and he flexed his hips again and again as her pussy dripped her arousal all over him.

Granger bit her lip and looked up at him as he slowly laid her down on the bed. Quickly crawling over her, Granger opened her legs to allow him to settle between them. He ran his hands down her body, tweaking her nipples as he went.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he groaned as he leaned down to take one of her peaks into his mouth. Granger’s back arched off the bed, and she moaned loudly. One of her hands delved through his hair, holding him in place.

“Feels so fucking good,” Granger moaned, and Draco slipped one hand down to her clit. Granger hissed as his finger made contact and he began softly swirling it around her hard nub. Granger bucked and keened beneath him, and Draco found himself smirking around her nipple. He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his hips into the bed below to try and get some friction.

Granger shattered around him when he slipped a finger inside her tight channel. It was the hottest thing Draco had ever seen, and he almost came at the sight.

“Please,” Granger begged when she was finally back down to earth. Draco took that for the permission it was and buried himself inside her warm body. His eyes rolled back in his head as her cunt gripped his cock. She pulsed around him, and Draco fought to keep from climaxing. This wasn’t going to be a one-time thing, at least he didn’t want it to be. And if he wanted to do this again, he’d have to blow Granger’s metaphorical socks off.

“Draco,” Granger groaned, and Draco had to start moving. He placed his forearms on either side of her head and stretched out on top of her. The feeling of her skin against his was divine. He pressed his lips to hers as the heat built between them. It wasn’t long before Granger was crying out beneath him, falling apart as he drove into her over and over again. Draco wondered if she could come again. Then he realized he’d lied to Granger. He’d told her he was going to fuck her, but this was absolutely not fucking. It was much closer to making love. He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes, smoothing some of the hair away from her face as he continued pumping his hips.

“Please, Draco,” Granger whispered as she panted, her cunt was gripping his cock rhythmically, and Draco knew she was close again. He found he wanted to sear himself into her skin so that she would never forget him. Never forget this. He pressed his lips to hers again as he started moving faster and faster. His balls tightened, and he leaned his forehead against hers as his climax swept over his body and he emptied his seed inside her.

Their breath mingled as they panted and came down from their respective highs.

“That was…” Draco trailed off, opening his eyes and finding her watching him already.

“Amazing,” Granger answered and quirked her lips. Draco grinned back, and she pressed her lips to his before he rolled to the side. Granger settled herself around him with her head on his chest an arm across his waist and one of her legs nestled between his. Draco had to admit that it felt perfect to have her wrapped around him like this and it didn’t take him nearly as long as he thought it would to fall asleep. 

* * *

  _October 15, 2008_

* * *

Miles Bletchley slipped out of his own Manor house. He hated skulking around, but he also was desperate to see his boyfriend. His Muggle boyfriend. The one none of his wizarding friends knew about, not even his Auror protector, who was still sound asleep inside the house. Miles pulled his hood up over his hair right after appearing in Diagon Alley. He was lucky his boyfriend lived so close to the Leaky Cauldron. Even luckier that the Leaky Cauldron was essentially open at all hours. He slipped through Diagon Alley, making his way toward the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron when he was stopped. Someone dressed in all black with some sort of black mask over their face was blocking his way.

“Pardon me, mate,” Miles muttered and tried to edge around the figure.

“Not today,” the man grunted, and Miles coughed as something hit his chest.

He coughed again and realized that there was a metallic taste in his mouth; he spit, and blood hit the cobblestones.

Glancing down, Miles realized where all the pain was coming from. Some sort of pipe was sticking out of the middle of his chest. He fell first to his knees, then onto his side as more and more of his blood escaped his body.

“Why?” Miles gasped as he caught sight of his murderers eyes. The murderer shrugged and dropped something before him. Miles focussed on it as the last breaths left his body. He wished he could warn the person who was next.

* * *

“Get up, ‘Mione! We got another one!” Potter’s voice rang through the tiny flat and Draco sat up suddenly and looked around blearily. A small wisp of a Patronus was just fading.

“Was that Harry?” Granger moaned from underneath a pillow.

“Yeah,” Draco replied and began rooting about the side of the bed for his clothes. He needed a cigarette if he was going to have to see another of his friends dead today.

Granger groaned wordlessly and flung an arm out, hitting Draco’s lower back. She began rubbing it, and Draco leaned into the sensation. They hadn’t talked about what happened between them, but Granger had allowed it to happen twice more in the middle of the night.

“I need a shower,” Granger stated as she slowly sat up. The bed was in the corner of the room, so she scooted around to his side and leaned against him as he sorted through their clothes. Granger yawned, and Draco wished he could drag her back to bed.

She either knew what he was thinking or accurately deciphered the look on his face. “We don’t have time,” she murmured and placed a soft kiss on his lips, before standing.

“I could join you in the shower?” Draco offered with a small half-smile.

Granger laughed. “Come see the shower and then decide.”

Draco’s small smile broke out into a full grin as he followed her across the space to the bathroom. The bathroom was tiny, and the shower stall looked like it was barely big enough to fit Granger, let alone a second person.

“We might need to make a pit stop at the Manor,” Draco commented as Granger turned on the water. “Not sure that thing is big enough for me.” He eyed the low shower head. “Or tall enough.”

“No time if there’s another body,” Granger reminded him.

Draco groaned and left her to it, deciding to settle for a Scourgify bath. It would have to do until that evening.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Draco and Granger were making their way inside the Auror bullpen to the conference room, and they could hear Shacklebolt yelling at someone else.

“No idea why The Bolt thinks that’s necessary,” Hermione muttered. “Probably feels bad enough as it is.”

Draco didn’t comment, just held the door open for her. Potter, Fincher, and Dawlish were all in the room already. Nott must have elected to stay home again. Draco almost wished he had done the same, but he felt like Potter and Granger weren’t going to solve this thing without him.

“You’re not going to like this, Hermione,” Potter stated. He tossed something at Granger, and she caught it one-handed. She gasped as she peered into the small glass vial and Draco felt his stomach sink. He didn’t even have to look to know what was in that vial.

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

Potter nodded grimly, and Granger turned her back to the room. Draco gritted his teeth, knowing she was upset, but not sure how she was planning to play the development of their relationship with her coworkers. He didn’t want to embarrass her.

“Well, glad I got Granger then,” Draco said finally. “She’s the best. Won’t let me out of her sight.”

Granger laughed wetly, and Draco smirked. Mission somewhat accomplished.

“There’ve been too many deaths,” Potter began. “We can’t keep going like this. We have no leads, and we can’t afford to protect everyone 24/7. We’re not even doing that good of a job!” Harry said.

“Who was it?” Draco asked.

“Miles Bletchley,” Fincher replied.

“Miles in Latin is soldier,” Granger said bleakly. “How?”

“It’s weird, a sharpened lead pipe of all things,” Potter said shaking his head. Granger’s brow furrowed as she took in that information.

Draco looked at the vial in Granger’s hand and could just make out the wings of a tiny toy dragon. So he was definitely next. He took in Granger’s countenance for a moment thinking about everything that had happened over the last few days. He’d begun this assuming he’d be dead soon and now he found every reason in the world to live was standing next to him.

“So what’s your plan, Potter?” Draco asked.

Potter grimaced. “Hermione, you aren’t going to like this…”

“Just tell us.” Granger gritted her teeth.

“We should set a trap for the killer. Put Malfoy somewhere visible, Knockturn Alley maybe? Fill the alley with Polyjuiced Aurors and just wait. The perpetrator is definitely increasing; he’s like going into berserker mode in that video game Ron likes.”

“You’re right; I don’t like it. Not only that, I won’t allow it,” Granger hissed.

“Now, hold on a momen—” Draco began but shut his mouth with Granger whirled on him.

“No! It’s my duty to protect you, and I can’t do that if we’re setting you up for bait! I won’t have your death on my hands.”

“I’m afraid that the decision isn’t up to you, Hermione,” Shacklebolt said from the open conference room door. Draco could see the disgraced Auror Shacklebolt had just been reprimanding lurking behind the large man. “We can’t afford another death. We look fucking incompetent, and I won’t have it.”

“Kings, just give me more time. I promise, I’ll figure this out,” Granger pleaded, and Draco felt terrible for her, but he agreed with Potter and Shacklebolt. Drawing the murderer out was the only way to prevent more deaths. And Draco didn’t want to die, not anymore.

“No, Hermione. That’s the final word. Harry, get working on whatever we need to get this up and running. Call in as many Aurors as you think are necessary.” Shacklebolt turned to go, and Granger darted out after him, still pleading her case.

Draco took a seat at the table and began going through the evidence they had on Miles. Maybe if they found something prior to the sting operation, then they wouldn’t have to go through with it.

“You sure you’re alright with this, Malfoy?” Potter asked.

Draco lifted his eyebrow. “Since when do you care so much about my well being Potter?”

“Hermione seems to care quite a bit,” Potter said lightly. Draco kept his face impassive. Potter didn’t know anything. “Any idea why that would be?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Potter,” Draco commented. He turned back to the photos of Miles, attempting to ignore Potter.

“Are we really letting him…” Dawlish whispered to Potter. Draco stiffened, but Potter came to his defense.

“He figured out the trinket thing.”

Draco couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his face but wiped it a moment later when Granger came back into the room.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” she said tightly, her eyes on Draco.

Draco nodded and stood from the table, following Granger back out into the bullpen. She shoved open a door and pushed Draco inside. They were in a small conference room, not meant to hold more than two or three people.

“I can’t believe you are alright with this!” Granger shouted at him.

“Woah, calm down,” Draco said, placing his hands on her waist. He backed her into the wall and put his forehead against hers. “It’s less that I’m alright with this and more than that I want this bastard caught and in Azkaban before someone else dies.”

“I don’t want _you_ to die,” Granger whispered, her lips so close to his that Draco could almost taste them.

“I _won’t_ ,” Draco promised, pressing his lips to hers. Granger moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

“Better not,” Granger threatened when she pulled away. Draco smirked at her as she pushed him away and led him back to the conference room to plan the trap. 

* * *

A few hours later and Draco was strolling along the dark streets of Knockturn Alley. There were twenty Aurors present in the alley in a variety of disguises. A few dressed as shopkeepers—the shopkeepers themselves pressed into silence by the Auror Department—others as patrons of the alley, and others still as warlocks or hags.

Granger had set up an ingenious charm that worked similar to Muggle radios. Draco had an earpiece in and a small button on the sleeve of his cloak that he could talk into.

“See anything?” Granger asked in his ear. Draco didn’t even know who she was Polyjuiced as. He didn’t know who any of them were, in order to keep the charade as authentic as possible. Draco brought his hand to his face, pretending to scratch his nose.

“Not yet,” he breathed into the button on his cuff.

Silence from the earpiece. They were trying to keep communication as quiet as possible. They had no idea on who the killer was, but the thought was that he lived near Diagon or Knockturn Alley as every single murder had happened here.

Draco paused to look in the grimy window of Borgin and Burkes when something hit him on the back of the head.

He fell hard to his knees and just barely managed to get his wrist up to his face and clue Granger in to his whereabouts before the second blow came. He got his arm up in time to block it, but the instrument being used to hit him clanged heavily on his forearm and Draco heard a crack. He was sure the arm was broken in at least one place. He whirled as hard as he could and tackled his attacker at the knees.

The attacker went down hard and dropped his weapon, some sort of metal object that he didn’t recognize. Draco staggered to his feet just as half a dozen Aurors came rushing around the corner with their wands blazing.

“Draco!” Granger screamed, and he staggered toward her. Something was dripping in his eye, and he brushed it away. His hand came back bloody. He stumbled another step and fell to his knees once more as Granger rushed to him, propping him up. “Hang on,” she muttered, and Draco nodded, but put his forehead against her abdomen. He closed his eyes just for a moment. 

* * *

 Draco came to lying on a soft bed in a room filled with bright lights. He squinted and realized he must be in St Mungo’s. Draco lifted his hand and prodded the lumpy shape on the bed next to him. His vision was somewhat blurry, and it wasn’t until his hand was deep into Granger’s curls that he realized that lump was Granger’s head.

“Mmm feels nice,” Granger murmured as Draco ran his short nails over her scalp.

“Did we get him?” Draco asked.

Granger sat up, and Draco could tell she’d been crying.

“What is it?”

“We got him,” Granger whispered.

“Who was it?” Draco felt his heart beat faster when tears began streaming down Granger’s cheeks. “Hey, come here.” Draco patted the bed and Granger scrambled up from the chair she was sitting on to curl into Draco’s side on the bed. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, burrowing her head into his chest for a moment. Draco wrapped his arms around her, running a hand up and down her back.

“It was Ron.”

“Weasley? Weasley was the mastermind? I didn’t think he was smart enough to find his own way out of a paper bag,” Draco scoffed.

Granger snorted. “Well, it was him; caught him red-handed. I sort of suspected actually—”

“Since when?” Draco asked incredulously. “Why didn’t you go after him before if you though—”

“Since this morning,” Granger said grimly. “It was the thing Harry said about Ron’s video game. Going into berserker mode? And then all the murder weapons were from Ron’s favorite Muggle board game, Cluedo. I wish I would have made the connection earlier. I _should_ have made the connection earlier.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it,” Draco said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d let a murderer go free even if he was your friend.”

“Ron and I haven’t been friendly for a while. He’s the reason I’m an Auror, and I actually hate being an Auror,” Granger said.

“What? But you’re so good at it.”

Granger shrugged. “When Ron quit, Kings was short staffed and bullied me to leave desk work for fieldwork. Maybe after this, I can convince Kings to let me go back to it.”

Draco held her tightly for a moment and placed a kiss on top of her head. He was a little surprised when the door to the room opened, and Potter stepped in.

“I knew it,” Potter said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Granger grumbled. “You’re fucking Nott, so you don’t get to say anything about this.”

“I am—”

“You are?” Draco asked Potter with interest.

Potter sighed. “Fine, yes, Theo and I are… I don’t know. Sleeping together I guess.”

“Fucking,” Granger supplied. “It’s fine, Harry.”

“Right.” Potter looked embarrassed, and Draco couldn’t stop smirking at him.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked, finally looking up from Draco’s chest.

“Came to offer Malfoy a job.”

“A what?” Draco asked. He’d suffered quite the head wound and was sure he’d heard Potter wrong.

Potter shrugged. “He’s a damn good Auror; doesn’t mind field work, smart, can handle a sting operation and still help take down a suspect with a bloody head wound. He’d probably be one of the best Aurors we got. And it would get you back on desk duty if you wanted it, Hermione.”

Draco lifted an eyebrow; he didn’t know what to say.

“Just think about it,” Potter said. “Glad to see you awake, Malfoy.” Then Potter left.

Granger turned back to him. “Do you think you’ll take the job?”

“What’s the department regulation on fraternizing with your coworkers?” Draco asked as he leaned in closer to Granger.

“I’m sure we could figure something out,” Granger murmured and closed the distance. Draco cupped her face gently and deepened the kiss. He hoped they could work something out. He had a feeling Granger wouldn’t care for a boyfriend who didn’t do anything with his days.

_**~Fin~** _


End file.
